


The Bitter Taste of Pine Nuts

by silverducks



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 18:29:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13106019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverducks/pseuds/silverducks
Summary: Yuletide was usually Sif's favourite time of the year. This year though, she was bored. Misunderstandings and jealousies threaten to ruin the festivities for the two princes of Asgard and their friend, Lady Sif. Maybe an adventure will help.





	The Bitter Taste of Pine Nuts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladylaufeyson1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladylaufeyson1/gifts).



> My prompt was for pining, lots of pining. And jealousies and feasts and Yule. And adventure. I did my best. Hope you enjoy reading, it was fun to write. :-) 
> 
> Merry Christmas
> 
> Nb - rated T for a bit of canon typical violence/fighting etc.

Even after a millennia, Yuletide was still Sif's favourite time of the year. From the exhilarating hunts in the snow covered forests to the lavish feasts and exuberant merriment consuming courtiers and servants alike. The food was never quite as good, the festivities never quite as merry or the songs and stories never quite as embellished as at Yuletide. This year, though, Sif was bored. The winter solstice would be upon them at dawn, but the usual preparations were to be taking place across the nine realms, far away from her. There were no exaggerated stories of past Yuletide hunts from her friends, no familiar melodies echoing around her ears. Her only company here was the tankard of Elfish mead she scowled into, far sweeter and intoxicating than their Asgardian equivalent, but no match for the rich warmth of home.

The Allfather had decreed the Royal family were to spend this Yuletide with the Light Elves. His great speech before the Royal court had talked of rekindling old friendships, exchanging traditions and wisdoms, but above all marking the tenth millennial since the two great realms had joined together in victory in the war against the dark Elves. Only a handful of servants, elders and royal guards accompanied them, the rest remained in the Realm Eternal to celebrate Yuletide as they had done for countless generations. And Sif longed to be among them. Instead, she had been asked by the Queen to join the Royal family, both as a representative of the Royal Court and of the mighty Asgardian warriors, the Eilenjar. Only years of court life had stilled her tongue before the Queen, for those reasons were almost laughable. Sif knew well enough why she was here; she was to keep the two princes company, entertain them whilst their parents accomplished whatever their real mission was here on Alfheim.

So far though, Sif's presence had proved superfluous. Almost as soon as they had entered the Elfin palace and been formally introduced, Loki had enquired about the famous library and had hardly been seen since. Thor had proven better company, at least at first. They had explored every nook and cranny they could of this great Elfish palace; a fortress built into the granite cliff. Great caverns had been carved into the rock, miles upon miles of tunnels twisting into mazes they soon enjoyed getting lost in. There were rich meadows and lakes surrounding the base of the cliff, where the longest waterfall Sif had ever seen cascaded down over the glass entrance to the palace that proved equally enthralling. Only Loki's palpable absence slowly dampened the friend’s adventures.

“If Loki were here he would find a way through,” Thor would mutter, when their path became guarded or the way barred. “Loki would know just the spell to fix this,” Thor would whine when they lost their bearings or discovered an obstacle they could not surpass. Her friend's almost continual bemoans would have irritated Sif had she not agreed completely. Adventures never were as entertaining without the trickster, for his magic, wit and mischievous nature always made things more interesting. And dangerous. Often leading them into, and admittedly also out of, many a tricky situation. For the young Asgardians, this was almost a prerequisite for an adventure and both friends missed the second prince acutely, although perhaps in very different ways. Thor's entreaties on the scant occasions they had seen the dark haired prince had done nothing to sway his brother's mind.

“There is far too much knowledge to be gained from such an enormous library to waste on silly adventures,” the likes of which Loki would always reply, his pretentious tones grating on them both. The prince’s almost constant shadow, a tall, dark haired young elf called Magnisca, would then touch his arm and lead him away. She was pretty, Sif would give her that. Beautiful some might think. And apparently a great sorceress in the making, who knew much about the powerful magic and wisdom to be found in the Elfin palace's library.

“She has been such a great help to me, I am so glad our father’s introduced us,” Loki had gushed at dinner on their first night, setting Sif's teeth on edge. “To think, she was never meant to visit the palace until summer! If her sister had not fallen ill, she would never have taken her place and visited this winter when we were here!”

“Such a spectacular coincidence, as if the Norns themselves had willed it so.”  The bitterness in her voice had earned Sif curious glances from the brothers, until Thor's latest tale of what they had found that day lead to another entreaty, and another refusal. Leaving Sif glaring into her tankard of mead, trying to ignore them both.

“She always knows exactly where each text I need is, and so many tomes I never knew existed!” Loki had praised at dinner on the second night, in the very brief moment Magnisca had left his side. “She has such a great understanding of Elfin magic, so different to that of Asgard.”

“How wonderful for you,” Sif had muttered into her tankard, the mead diluting the bitterness somewhat, but still earning her questioning looks from the princes.

On the third night, Sif had managed to remain silent when Loki yet again waxed lyrical about a certain dark haired elf. If the brother's noticed her fingers tightening round her goblet, or knocking back more of the strong Elfin wine than she should, they made no comment. She could not quite hold her tongue after Loki was once again led away by Magnisca though. His departing remark that he was too busy learning useful things to play at adventuring had destroyed her resolve.

“I bet that is not all he is busy doing!” Sif had snapped, loud enough to draw the attention of several eyes, including Thor's inquisitive gaze. He had watched her for several moments, before nodding his head and downing his tankard. Whether in agreement, resignation or sheer disappointment in his brother, Sif had not known. Without a word, he passed her a dish of pine nuts, apparently the local delicacy here, and looked out across the great hall of the Elfin palace, as if seeking more agreeable company. As she had chewed, and spat out, the bitter pine nuts, she had wondered if he was disappointed in Sif too. Perhaps that was why Thor had also abandoned her, on that very same third night. This time it was with a pretty blonde Elvin lady he had seen dancing across the hall. It had not taken long for Thor to introduce himself, invite her over and forget about Sif almost entirely. She was a young lady of the Elvin court, of noble blood and Magnisca's cousin and who seemed to love hanging on the prince's every word. A mutual beneficial arrangement, for Thor loved to tell of his adventures to a pretty face, and had been doing so for the last four days. They became as inseparable as Loki and Magnisca. Or at least Sif assumed they were, for she saw so little of the second prince. Thor lavished his attentions on Anansara, Magnisca's cousin, but whenever Loki was briefly present at dinner, Magnisca was more like his shadow. She would follow him around, whisper in his ear and, with what was to Sif completely unnecessary physical contact, guide him where she wished they should go.

The behaviour of both her friends was terribly frustrating; she felt Thor’s behaviour as a betrayal, and it angered and irritated her, perhaps in part because she wondered if she had pushed him away. As to why Loki's behaviour bothered her so, she did not want to think about that. After all, seeing so little of the second prince was hardly unusual; even back in Asgard he could hide away for days, weeks even, busy studying in the library or learning a new spell in his chambers. But rarely did he fail to join them on an adventure. Indeed most were usually his idea, either suggested directly, or through a few well chosen words in his brother's ear. How could he spend so much time in this dark, dusty library, where not one drop of sunlight fell it was so buried within the rock, when there was so much to explore here? The question continued to plague Sif and she was concerned for her friend. It had absolutely nothing to do with a certain tall, dark and beautiful elf.

After all, Sif had never allowed herself to hope or even dream there could be anything more than friendship between herself and the second prince. She was a female warrior, always having to train, to fight twice as hard to prove herself over her male counterparts. There was no time for foolish distractions and sentimentalities. And Loki... Well, he was a prince of the mightiest realm in Yggdrasil's branches, he had no need of a warrior bride. His eyes and silvered words were always for the pretty ladies of the court, one of which his parents were sure to make a match for him. He never noticed her as anything more than a friend; his brother's friend. Someone to tease and wind up, to help in the fight on their adventures and perhaps an echo of nostalgia of their once strong friendship. As children, together with Thor, they were almost inseparable, but they had long since grown up and grown apart, their chosen endeavours taking them along different paths. It had been many years since Sif had buried away her feelings for Loki, locked them up tight and lost the key. Not that she had ever let herself fully acknowledge them, not even back then. But like an old wound, her feelings remained, a dull ache usually ignored. And just like many an old wound, Sif had learnt well to avoid disturbing it, to keep it protected lest it should reopen and fester, becoming as sharp as the very day it cut deep. And now, here at Yuletide and far away from home, Sif felt the stitches unravelling, the opening wound threatening to consume her. And Sif was determined to prevent it.

Still, with both her friends abandoning her, she'd had to find her own amusement, and there was little to be found now in this Elvin palace. The training grounds and barracks above the great cliff had been abandoned centuries ago. “So much more civilised to have the soldiers away from the palace,” Magnisca had said, Loki nodding in agreement and Sif and Thor frowning, both feeling somewhat insulted. Their location now was almost a full day's ride away and the palace guards were too lazy and soft for Sif to enjoy their company. So she had continued exploring the palace and its grounds alone, finding no real fun or interest in the endeavour with no friends to share it with. She longed for a proper fight, for the company of her friends and the joys of Yuletide back home. With so little else to occupy her but thoughts, she had grown more frustrated and ill-tempered with each day that passed.

This night, the seventh since their arrival and the eve of the Winter Solstice and Yule, had found her particularly aggravated and bored. Thor was once again fawning of Anansara; the King and Queen of course were busy talking to the Elvin leaders and, as ever, Loki was no where to be found. Even the elves seated around her avoided her eye and whispered amongst themselves, clearly sensing her less than festive mood. She longed for a friend to talk to and glaring into her tankard did little to soothe her irritability. She glared once more at Thor, who even though he was seated next to her, may as well have been in another realm for all the attention he gave her. He was too busy recounting the tale of how he had single-handedly defeated a giant Wyrm in Nidavellir. As it happened, Thor had been knocked unconscious early on and Sif had dealt the mortal blow, but she was too grumpy now to correct her supposed friend.

Instead, Sif was just contemplating leaving the Yule Eve feast early and retiring to her chambers, no one would miss her after all, when she felt heavy eyes burning into the bare skin of her back. Her skin prickled and her heart jumped, fingers tightening around her tankard. He came closer, standing almost behind her now and Sif drew in a sharp breath full of strong mead from the tankard she was staring into. After a moment, she glanced up, following the heat of his gaze. She would know it anywhere, but Loki had already turned his eyes away from her, towards his brother.

“Loki!” Thor shouted exuberantly, turning away from Anansara for the first time all evening and jumping up to greet his brother. He motioned for Loki to seat himself, squishing up even closer to the blonde elf and making room between himself and Sif. There was a moment of hesitation, Sif's breath catching in her throat as he glanced towards her, before Loki followed his brother's eager motions and seated himself.

“Hello,” Sif said into her tankard, trying and failing to not notice how much his lean body pressed against hers, or the curious glance she drew from him.

“How fare thee, brother?”

“I fare well, for this very night I discovered something most interesting in the library. Magnisca...”

“Can you not spare us from the delights of the library for just one night!" The heavy clang as her tankard hit the table and her outburst surprised even her. In answer to the brother’s sharp glances, Sif continued irritably, “It is Yule Eve after all.”

That reminder, of what was for all the best time of year, brought melancholy expressions to the princes. All three Asgardian’s glanced around the great Elfin hall, lamenting the lack of bright fairy lights, pretty flowers and garlands and ribbons that they knew would now be adorning the halls and corridors of the Realm Eternal. For the elves, Yuletide was just another festival, given acknowledgement with finer food, merrier dancing and bright, smiling faces. It was not held has highly, or celebrated as fiercely, as it was in Asgard.

With a loud sigh into his goblet, Thor lamented, “It is a shame we will not be there for the great hunt tomorrow. The Warrior’s Three are sure to win, and we will hear no end of their victory!”

“Well, if Sif had let me finish…” Loki chastised her, causing Sif to once more cast her eyes into her tankard, hoping Loki would not notice the faint flush that brushed her cheeks. “I was about to tell you what Magnisca had discovered." The second prince looked pointedly at Sif, as if expecting her to interrupt, but she only answered with a scowl. “There is a serpent hiding nearby, deep within the Elfin woods. Usually it sleeps, but once a century, at Yule, it rises and feeds on whatever it can find. The local farmers used to offer it sacrifices of animals; their finest cattle, sheep and goats, in the hope it would spare their lives. Sometimes it did, and sometimes the animals would not be enough, it would thirst for sweeter blood and attack, feasting on young and old alike.” The prince paused, glancing at his companions, who had leaned eagerly forward to better hear his tale. “One fateful night, a thousand years ago at tomorrow’s dawn, the serpent’s appetite could not be sated. It destroyed the local farms, killing all who stood in its way and not one farmer or townsfolk lived to tell the tale.”

Both Sif and Thor sucked in a breath, imagining that very serpent rampaging through the town. Loki took a gulp of wine, before leaning in closer towards them, voice barely more than a whisper. “It is said that the Elves of this palace grew so fearful of the serpent, they joined together to perform a forbidden spell, one trapping the serpent in an endless sleep, before destroying all knowledge of its existence. Only this book, missed in the dusty archives of the library, tells of the tale.”

“And you propose we find this great beast?” Thor asked, voice low, filled with awe and excitement, eyes shining in wonder.

“It would be a fine tale to tell the Warriors Three, would it not? One to surpass even the greatest of Yuletide Hunts.” Loki sat back in his seat and knocked down his drink, eyes alight with mischief and adventure.

“And likely to have us all killed, if even the great Elves could not stop it!” Sif chimed in, but her voice lacked conviction. The thought of an adventure, a great hunt with her friends once again… Something to track and fight… It was hard to contain her smile, to stop the excitement running through her mind, her warrior blood singing in her veins.

“They are no match for us Asgardian’s, Sif. You have seen how poor their soldiers are here. They care more for magic and knowledge, not the great victories and battles of us great Warriors!” Thor answered, voice rising as if he were trying to stir up an army.

“Magic and knowledge have their place, Thor.” Loki replied, voice curt, and Sif saw the resentment shift across his features, his eyes hard as old, bitter wounds came back to momentarily haunt him.

“Of course,” Thor answered cheerfully, clearly not noticing his brother’s sudden tension. “But we are far better able to face this serpent! I say we rid this land of such a foul beast!”

Loki smirked behind his goblet, clearly pleased his plan had worked. There was only Sif left to convince, and the two brothers looked eagerly at her.

“I do believe if we prove lucky enough to live, we shall regret this.” Sif answered, trying to hide her own smile.

“Of course we shall live, Sif!” Thor refuted.

“Good.” Loki rose then, clearly about to leave them for his Elfin friend. But he turned towards her and smiled, for a moment stopping her heart with its sincerity. “Then we meet at the palace stables, at dawn.”

* * *

“Loki.” Magnisca’s voice called as the second prince began to slip through the doors of the hall. Her smile was bright and her steps eager as she approached him.

He turned around to face her, smile wide and eyes merry. “Hello Magnisca.”

“Would you care to learn more about this new spell? I have been practicing it during dinner and think I have quite mastered it. If you would care to see.”

“It would be a… a pleasure.” A yawn broke his speech and changed his mind. “But perhaps not now, Magnisca, it is growing late and we should rest.” Whilst not one for regular sleep, on the eve of a battle, a fight, an adventure, he knew its benefits well enough. And his mind was not then on magic. The thought of the quest awaiting them tomorrow filled him with anticipation and he was pleased that Thor had so readily agreed. He had seen so little of his brother and this realm and could not wait now to explore and seek out adventures.

“Oh… Then maybe tomorrow.” For a moment Magnisca looked so disappointed, he was about to change his mind, but she quickly smiled again, although not quite as brightly. “Good night, then Prince Loki. Sleep well.”

With a slight curtsey, she turned away, walking towards her own chambers on the other side of the palace. It was only as he approached his own rooms that an interesting thought took shape in his mind. She had seemed quite disappointed at his refusal, as if she wished to spend more time with him, wished to show off her skills and accomplishments to him. Perhaps because she sought his affections? He was unaccustomed to such pretty girls paying him mind; it had not even occurred to him until now that Magnisca might be seeking more than friendship. She was a kindred spirit, the first person Loki had found his own age who loved magic and thirsted for knowledge as much as he. He had greatly enjoyed her company and wondered if he had been too free in his praise of her. Perhaps she did hope, expect something more from him... For a moment he considered his conduct and found much fault with it. If she sought no more than friendship, it mattered little, but if she was seeking more… He would have to be more careful, watch her a little closer, just in case, for he did not wish to hurt her. Perhaps something more may have grown between them, if his heart had not been lost to him since he was scarcely more than a child.

Once he had reached his chambers and began preparing for the quest tomorrow, all thoughts of Magnisca flew from his mind. The daggers and throwing knives he had brought with him were gathering dust. He cleaned them carefully, sharpening their blades with a spell. The excitement was consuming him again, the thirst for adventure almost as strong as his usual thirst for mischief. Whilst his time in the library had proved most fruitful and enjoyable, there was so much Loki had also wanted to see. But he was conscious of the way Sif had looked at him, almost from their arrival here. That first night when he had introduced Magnisca to them, she had scowled so, her voice bitter. She had not welcomed his disturbance between her and Thor.

When they were back on Asgard, with the Warrior’s Three also as company, Sif had never seemed to mind Loki joining on their adventures, often welcoming it. But now it was just the three of them, like it had not been for years, she clearly felt his intrusion keenly. She had wanted to spend time with Thor, alone, and Loki would not stand in her way. So whilst Thor had so eagerly entreated him to come exploring with them, Sif had avoided his eye. Her opinion on the matter was quite clear and he had always declined, for her. But now the shieldmaiden had become downright miserable, jealousy clawing at her from the attentions Thor now lavished on the pretty elf. It broke his heart to see her so wretched, but there was little Loki could do. That was until Magnisca had found the book and the idea of an adventure had soon occurred to him. He might have embellished the tale to Thor and Sif, but it was just what they each needed. Loki would finally get to see more of the Realm, Thor would have his Yuletide hunt and Sif… Well, she would have Thor’s attentions back, at least for that afternoon. And he would see her smile as she joined in the hunt. And whilst Loki’s presence was necessary, for Loki knew they needed his help, her enjoyment at such a quest would soon, he hoped, amend for his intrusion.

It was to be a great adventure, battling such a serpent of legend and as the three Asgardians tried to sleep, their thoughts and dreams were filled with the anticipations of the coming escapade, the awaiting fights and challenges, and the tales they would tell for many a Yule to come. To Loki and Thor, the idea that the hunt should prove too dangerous and costly for them did not even register. For what was the purpose of such a quest if there were to be no chance of possible, imminent death? They had never yet failed, even if things did not always go as planned. Only Sif was wary, her anxiety no match for her excitement, but it was there nonetheless. Perhaps it was the gift of prophecy that ran through her blood lines, but Sif had a very strange sense of foreboding about their exploits tomorrow.

* * *

“What is she doing here?”

Across the stone courtyard, Sif had caught sight of Loki walking towards them, her smile widening. But then his shadow had stepped out from behind and Sif's scowl had not faded since. One fell across Loki's face when he reached them and he caught her words.

“I asked to come,” Magnisca said timidly, keeping close to Loki’s side.

The obvious nervousness in the elf set Sif’s teeth on edge and she looked dismissively at her. “Have you ever fought a beast before? In fact, can you even fight?”

“Sif.” Loki said in warning at the harsh, condescending tone in Sif’s voice.

“She has a point, Loki.” Thor chimed in, looking warily at the elf. She was wearing suitable armour with several weapons securely fastened, but she clearly did not wear it at all with ease and Sif was concerned for the safety of their quest.

“I have been taught to use many weapons and different fighting techniques.”

This made Sif’s eyes widen and she looked again at the elf. Maybe there was more to her than Sif had thought. “But you have no actual real life experience.” It was not a question, her voice was cold and dismissive. Even Thor threw her a reprimanding look, but Sif continued to look contemptuously at the Elf. The safety of their mission was at stake.

“I promise I will not get in your way, please let me come.” She looked mournfully at Loki and the prince gave her sad smile, before turning to Sif with a scathing look.

It only served to increase Sif’s ire; she would not allow Loki to put this mission at risk to impress his girlfriend. “That is not what I fear!”

“We need Magnisca’s help, Sif.” Loki retorted through gritted teeth. “Not only does she know these lands better than each of us, but she is a proficient sorceress.”

Magnisca beamed at that, her eyes gazing intently at Loki, but the prince’s attention was on matching the sheildmaiden’s glare.

“Then let her come,” Thor finished, pulling rank and signalling an end to the matter. He looked weary suddenly, the light of excitement and anticipation of the coming adventure fading in his eyes.

“Good.” Loki nodded towards Magnisca, not noticing the way she suddenly avoided his eyes or hid her smile. “Then let us get the horses.” With purposeful strides he walked across the courtyard away from them, Magnisca quickly rushing to his side.

Only Sif and Thor remained behind for a few moments, Sif turning her glare towards him and Thor sighing resignedly. “Here, take these.” He held a small pouch towards her and then tipped into her outstretched palm some more pine nuts.

“Thor, why in the nine did you bring these?” She bit into one, not sure why she expected it to taste any different. Once more she spat it out, and tipped the rest back into Thor’s small pouch.

“They are very good for adventures, that is what Anansara said. Very nutritious and sustaining. And quite ironic, is it not? It will keep you going, but at a high cost.”

For a moment, Sif watched her friend, trying to discern his meaning. He looked pointedly across to where Loki was just now disappearing with Magnisca, before walking towards them, muttering, “Pining and jealousy… very bitter.”

Shaking her head in confusion, Sif followed, the excitement of the coming adventure starting to sing once more in her warrior blood.

* * *

With the rush of the wind and speed of the horses, all animosity was soon lost between the friends. They raced through the meadows and fields of the Elfin plains on the fastest horses from the stables. The rush of adrenaline sped through them all, as they cheered and smiled between them, each trying to race faster than the others. And it was with only a hint of bitterness that Sif noticed how accomplished a rider Magnisca was as she guided them across the plains. Nothing could spoil the excitement and thrill of the journey then, not even the trees thickening and the air growing colder and quieter as they reached the ends of the flat, expansive plains.

Suddenly though, they reined in their horses, so quickly several reared back. A dense copse of gigantic trees suddenly blocked their path, their branches reaching so high and so wide they could see nought else save at their backs. They had reached the dark, Elfin forest and the friends glances were now filled with a potent mix of anticipation, and apprehension.

“This way,” Magnisca turned her horse to the left, finding a small path meandering through the thick, twisted branches, framed by wide metal arches. The horses whinnied then, their steps faltering as their riders led them through. Within moments, the sunlight faded around them and they could see little for a moment, save the dense gnarled branches and thick leaves. Even once their eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness, the way ahead was hard to see. Magnisca and Loki lit their path with magic spheres of green and blue, but the trees were so thick around them it did not penetrate far. With slower, careful steps, hearts jumping in tense trepidation and excitement, the four friends led their horses through the deep, dark forest of Alfheim.

The serpent's cave was buried deep within the forest, beside a great lake that looked as black and still as the wastes of Nilfheim. A giant rock rose up high against the far shore, and Magnisca led them towards this. They left the horses tethered nearby and approached cautiously. Green light was already flashing within Loki’s palm and Sif felt the prickle of dark, fetid magic against her skin. The four friends exchanged glances before drawing their weapons. The cave entrance was small, once a crack in the giant rock that had widened with age and use. The way was blocked by boulders, some reaching high towards the sky, others into the cold, black depths of the water below. Thor moved forwards, Mjolnir raised, but Loki grabbed his arm and shook his head. A tendril of green light rose from Loki's hand and he focused it on the boulders. Sif watched, mesmerised, as the light lifted each boulder high into the air, clearing their path. 

Looking back at his friends for a moment, Thor nodded in command and walked into the cave. With anxious eyes and hearts full of trepidation, the three friends followed him.

The way was long and dark, Loki's magic struggling to find its light. The cave curved downwards, deep into the bedrock beneath the lake. Eventually it opened up into a large chasm; its ceiling lost to distance and its floor forming a lake which reflected back only darkness. How deep it was, Sif hoped she would never have to know.

"Loki," Thor whispered, "what now?" Although quiet, his words in the silent cavern sounded like a battle cry. He said no more and they all stepped forward, following the path as it skirted around the lake. Loki glanced across at Magnisca and she nodded. Their lips then began to move in unison, an ancient spell not so much heard, as felt. As if in answer, a few words of incantation were heard across the water, whispers creeping under their skin and into their thoughts. Then a sudden, deathly silence surrounded them that set Sif’s very bones on edge. Less than a heartbeat later, they heard it. A giant roar that shook the ground beneath their feet, casting ripples across the water and suddenly the giant beast rose up and attacked.

It rose over a hundred foot high, its eyes a sickly yellow and its jaws open wide. Sharp fangs dripping with blue, viscous poison filled its mouth and it swung down towards them with such speed, they had little time to react. Jumping out of its way, Thor slipped on the bedrock and fell towards the lake. He drove Mjolnir hard into the ground, catching his fall. Sif's glaive was already flashing in the air, but the serpent's movements were too quick to follow. Flashes of green and blue magic smashed into the beast and it roared, rearing up into the hidden heights of the cave, before it bore down on them again.

"The eyes," Loki shouted, his daggers spinning in the air towards it, "we have to take out its eyes!"

The jaws of the beast swung towards her and Sif barely had time to move. Her glaive slipped from her hand, clattering across the cave towards the lake. The beast reared back towards her and Sif jumped away, turning her landing into a roll that brought her near her glaive. Using it as leverage, Sif jumped towards the serpent as it swung back round towards her. She found her footing on its back and tried stabbing its eyes out with her dagger. 

The beast reared back, thrashing its head from side to side to throw her off. But Sif clung on tight. Below, Thor tried to smash the hammer against the serpent, but its skin was too tough for even the mighty Mjolnir. Loki's daggers found little purchase and whilst the green and blue shots of magic hurt the beast, it did little damage. 

Unable to throw Sif off, the serpent rose high again into the endless cave. Anticipating its next move, Sif dug her glaive and dagger in deep, gripping tightly as it rushed back down with such speed her head spun. 

"Sif!" She heard Loki scream and she glanced towards him. "The lake!"

Suddenly realising her mistake, Sif let go and crashed into the hard, unrelenting bedrock. Moments later, the serpent's head disappeared beneath the waters, where she would have surely drowned.

"Loki," Sif whispered, trying to crawl towards him. He rushed towards her, but did not make it. The beast suddenly appeared again, lunging towards the shieldmaiden with a vengeance. It was too quick and too soon after her fall. She failed to move in time and watched as the sharp, dripping fangs rushed towards her.

It was only the sudden, powerful blast of Loki's magic that saved her. It struck the serpent's face and the putrid stench of burning flesh filled the air. The beast roared in agony, before falling back beneath the waters.

The three warriors sucked in deep breaths in their moment of respite, for the beast would not stay away for long. Loki helped Sif to stand, all her muscles protesting from her fall.

"Brother, this is not working, we cannot fight this thing." 

"I know, I know." Loki muttered as he looked around the cave for inspiration. Suddenly an idea occurred to him, but before he could voice it, the beast returned, heading straight now for him. 

"Loki," both Sif and Magnisca cried in unison, and both rushing towards him. But whilst Sif had her glaive and dagger and centuries worth of experience, Magnisca had only her magic. She threw more bolts at the serpent, but it did little except draw the beast's attention.

"Get back, Magnisca," Sif shouted, trying to push the elf back into the safety of the tunnel. The elf started to follow Sif's command, until she saw the beast attacking Loki again. Its jaws were lashing about wildly and only the combined efforts of the princes held it at bay.

Magnisca suddenly rushed forwards, pushing past Sif and trying to copy the spell Loki had cast. But her combat magic was not strong enough to wound the beast. Instead, it just turned its sickly yellow eyes upon this new threat and swung around towards her. Sif had been pushed too far back by the elf and it moved too quickly for Loki and Thor to stop it. Its giant head reared towards Magnisca, a large scaly arm emerging from the water. It swung the claws around, colliding with the elf and sending her flying across the cavern. Her body hit the wall with a deafening crash, before slumping down onto the ground.

"Magnisca!" Loki cried, rushing towards the elf. This was his fault, all his fault. She would not even be here if not for him. Guilt consumed and distracted him. He failed to notice the claws now lunging towards him.

But Sif saw them; she ran towards him, watching the movement of the claw closely. At just the right moment, Sif jumped forwards, knocking Loki backwards and feeling the sharp claws dig deep into her own skin. The pain was excruciating and she screamed. She could just about make out Loki crawling towards her. He was safe. Then, Sif fell into unconsciousness. 

"Sif!" Loki screamed, consumed by panic, fear, guilt and an overpowering rage akin to madness. He knelt over her, saw the blood pooling on the stone floor and nearly lost control.

"Loki. Loki!" His brother's insistent voice broke through his haze of madness. It receded a little and he turned towards his brother. With Mjolnir spinning around the cavern, the serpent was momentarily distracted. "What can we do, brother?" Thor's voice was as close to panic as Loki had ever heard. 

Do. There was nothing they could do. He was about tell his brother so, when he remembered his earlier plan. It might just work.

Standing quickly, he retrieved Sif's glaive and joined his brother in battling the serpent. 

"We need lightning, Thor."

"Lightning, in here? Are you truly mad, the whole cave will collapse."

"Trust me," Loki answered through gritted teeth as he blocked the serpent's jaws with the glaive. "When I say, alright."

"Alright, but this better work, Loki."

"Of course." He stepped back from the serpent and focused on his magic. It crackled around him, stronger now from the rage that had taken hold of him. He let it build, held it as long as possible. There would only be one chance at this.

"Now, Thor!" A bolt of lightning rushed through the cave, amplified by the enclosed space and Loki released his magic. It merged with the lightning, contained it, before rushing towards the beast. The energy was too strong. It crackled through the air, burning the serpent. It fell down, its head smashing against the side of the lake and all movements ceased.

With Sif's glaive still in hand, he swung it down upon the beast; the weak spot upon its neck now revealed to him. The blade cut through, the head falling backwards and disappearing into the lake. Only its charred body remained. 

"I was going to keep that as a trophy," Thor muttered. He approached Magnisca and Loki crowded over Sif once more.

"Is... is everything alright now?" Magnisca's weak voice echoed around the cavern after Thor had roused her.

Loki looked down at Sif, before pulling her into his arms and cradling her carefully.

"Let's just get out of here!"

* * *

The healing rooms of the palace were set deep into the granite, protecting their most vulnerable from the dangers of battle. But a battle had not been fought here for millennias, and the infirmary, once a maze of rooms before a giant cavernous hall, now fitted a few beds and the watchful eyes of the Elfin healers. The sound of voices echoed around the chasm and Loki stood in the shadows, watching and listening. Through a small doorway he could see the chief healer bending over Sif still. Thor and Magnisca had long since been discharged, but Sif… It was far from a mortal wound, but the serpent’s poisonous claws had cut deep into flesh and it would take a long time to heal. The healer was still busy casting spells and stitching the wound together. The clothes and linen were soaked with blood and Loki’s stomach turned at the sight. Guilt gnawed at him, but it did not distract him from the cold stone dread in his heart as he watched the healer work.

Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime of waiting, the healer permitted the shieldmaiden to leave. “But you must be careful, my Lady. No fighting or training for many a moon cycle.” The voice of the healer sounded incredibly reminiscent of the chief healer in Asgard, and the sincere smile and nod of agreement, followed by the roll of the eye and obvious refusal as she turned away, likewise.

Sif marched through the doorway and the healer watched her in dismay, muttering under his breath. She caught sight of Loki then and froze. Several heartbeats passed between them before Sif spun around to face him, anger suddenly filling her gaze. “How dare you!”

“Sif… I…” He stepped backwards as she approached, footsteps fierce and fingers clenching into fists.

“How dare you! You put all our lives in danger, Loki!”

“I know but…” The wall met his back and still Sif stormed towards him. She only stopped when she was inches away, her head raised as she glared up at him. Loki fought for a contingency plan then, deciding words and reason would prove best. “We have suffered far worse injuries before, Sif…”

Her fist banged against the wall, just inches from his face. “Loki that serpent nearly killed us all!”

“But it did not; we killed it, and what a tale we shall tell.” He gave her a small smile, but she just banged her fist again, not quite so easily placated.

“And what if it had, or we had been maimed? This whole adventure was stupid and foolhardy.”

“As are most of our adventures Sif.” This time he tried indifference, “You never seemed to mind so before.”

This earned him another fist to the wall, even closer now to his face. “Never has death so stared us in the eye, _trickster_. And what for, so you could impress your girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?” Her comment confused him, as did the sudden surprise that momentarily flickered across her face. “Sif, you are quite mistaken…”

“You never should have allowed her to come, Loki!”

“I know.” He shook his head then, stepping to the side away from her. “I am sorry, Sif.”

She watched him a moment, eyes fierce, but his apology hit its mark and her face softened, just slightly. “She was unprepared for battle, and her inexperience endangered us all!”

“I know!” Loki retorted, “I said I was sorry, Sif.” The guilt rose up within him then and he looked away, unable to hold her gaze. The fight replayed in his mind and his fingers clenched at the memory, at the sight of Magnisca as she was smashed against the cave wall. The serpent’s claws chasing after him as he ran to reach her. Sif knocking him away as the claw’s found their mark, deep with the shieldmaiden’s side. Her choking screams as the poison seared through her veins. And the blood pouring out onto his fingers as he had held her carefully on their ride home.

He took a deep, steadying breath, “And I meant it, Sif. Truly I do.”

After a few, tense moments, the shieldmaiden nodded, the tension and anger leaving her features. “Why are you even still here, Loki.” Sif asked, tearing Loki from his memories, the anger diluted with timid curiosity now. “Should you not be preparing for the feast?”

“I wanted to apologise, Sif. _Honestly_ ,” he emphasised as she gave him an incredulous look. “I should not have brought Magnisca. I only did so because she begged to come and…”

Anger suddenly flashed across the shieldmaiden’s face then, taking Loki by surprise. “Oh yes, and you would do whatever she asks!”

“Sif…” Loki began, but then held his tongue. There was little use in apologising again. He did not understand the cause of her sudden outburst.

“And I know you were so very eager to impress her, risking all our lives to show off to your _girlfriend_!”

The anger was beginning to consume Sif then, and Loki felt his own defensive anger rise up to match as his patience waned. “I already told you, Sif. Magnisca is not my girlfriend.”

“What,” Sif replied incredulously, something akin to relief crossing her features. Loki did not notice, he was too focused on trying to work out the source of Sif’s anger. She never had taken to Magnisca; had been curt and rude to the Elf from the start. Loki had no idea why, but the question spilled from his tongue before he could think upon it. “Why do you hate Magnisca so?”

This time it was Sif who looked confused, and anxious. “I do not… I do not hate her.”

“But you have been nothing but rude to her since our arrival, as if…” Loki suddenly froze, the words suddenly stilling on his tongue. Almost as if she were jealous… But that made no sense. Sif had no reason for jealousy, not of Magnisca anyway. It was Anansara who stole the affections of her beloved Thor. And surely Sif would not blame Magnisca for that, for she had no control over her cousin. Yet he could find no other reason for Sif’s behaviour… He shook his head, trying to clear it of the ridiculous notion.

“I…” The shieldmaiden swallowed, looked down at the floor, at the walls, at anything but him. “I did not mean to appear rude, Loki.” She looked at him then, guilt and anxiety and _something,_ something he could not fathom now filling her eyes. “I just hate this place, Loki! I have been so miserable here and… and I must have been too careless in my conduct. Will you, erm, apologise on my behalf?”

Her words were meant as an apology, but they just reminded Loki of her misery over Thor. Sif was usually so honourable, so loyal and kind to all but those who would cross her. That she would be so unnecessary cruel to another, blameless person, care so little to accept that wrong herself, meant she had been even more affected than he thought. That pain cut deeper than any guilt or fears this day had brought him and his eyes narrowed at her. “Then try harder, Sif.” He walked away from her then, footsteps angry, “And tell her yourself!”

* * *

After taking the long route to her chambers, Sif had little time to prepare for the feast. It helped little that each step, rather than soothing her, had made her angrier yet. That there adventure had gone so horribly wrong bothered her, for she knew well how foolish they had all been, and it had almost cost them their lives. And she could not forget the coldness in Loki’s eyes as he left her. He was right, of course, she had been far too unkind to the Elf. It was not her fault Loki preferred her company. And whilst the guilt plagued her, she was more annoyed that he was right. Above all though, she feared what he may suspect from her actions. Thor’s own cryptic hints on the subject were proving harder to ignore, so what if Loki also realised why she had acted this way? She would have to be more careful and instead tried to turn her attentions to dressing for the feast, as well as she could.

The Queen had not forgotten her, despite them sharing few words this Yule, and a servant soon arrived to help Sif dress. The maid was talented, adorning her blue satin dress with holly garlands for Yuletide and twisting Sif’s hair into beautiful plaits that fell against her shoulders. When she looked into the mirror, she was quite surprised at how pretty she looked. It helped lessen her anger, for when she approached the great hall, she felt confident in that way she rarely did. She was no longer a warrior now and, as childish as it may be, her heart skipped in her chest as she wondered what Loki would think.

Yet again, though, this Yule was determined to curse her. When she entered, though her eyes immediately found him, dressed in his ceremonial green, black and gold armour, he did not even stir. She could see his profile clearly, talking to his mother near the high table. The Queen glanced up, smiled sweetly and Sif bowed her head in greeting. Loki glanced towards her, but his face was cold, his smile thin and feigned. He nodded at her in greeting, quickly and curtly, before he turned back towards his mother. He had not even noticed that she was dressed so carefully tonight and Sif clenched her fingers around the dagger she had hidden in her dress, much to the surprise of the maid.

After standing around awkwardly for many minutes, she finally spotted Thor and approached him as quickly as her dress would allow.

“Sif!” The prince smiled at her, tearing himself away from Anansara, clearly glad to see her for once. “They finally let you escape the healing rooms then?” His voice was light, but his eyes looked upon her with concern. She smiled, picking up some food and quickly placating his fears.

“I gave them no choice, Thor, I was not missing the Yuletide feast!”

“Indeed, and what a feast! They may not celebrate it as much as we, but they certainly can cook. Volstagg would be green with envy.”

“Indeed! And yet more so when we speak of our adventures today. It is not every day one kills an ancient serpent.”

Neither of them mentioned how close they had come to failure, or how sternly the Allfather had chastised them on their return. Like so many adventures gone astray, time and tall tales chase away the bad memories, leaving behind only the glories and victories, the wounds becoming nothing but scars to wear with pride.

A few moments later, though, she felt Loki's heavy, angry gaze burning into her. She looked up quickly and caught his scowl, before he schooled his features. Her own scowl appeared, for though Loki had his reasons to be angry, so did she.

“How do your injuries fare, brother.” Thor asked, after motioning Loki to sit down.

“They are quite healed now,” Loki answered, grabbing the plate Thor was loading with food for him. “Magnisca really does have the makings of a great healer. Did I tell you she found this new spell book the other day and...”

“The two of you spent all day studying its mystical depths,” Sif drawled, “how exciting for you.”

“Well, there was this one spell...” Loki began, pointedly ignoring Sif's outburst. But he never had chance to continue, for his shadow had once again returned.

“Loki, there is a visiting mage from the South I would love to introduce you to.” Magnisca gently touched his arm and Loki suddenly straightened beside Sif

“Yes, yes, of course.” Stuffing a piece of bread in his mouth, Loki quickly jumped up before following the elf back into the throng of courtiers.

Sif watched them disappear with a scowl, before glancing across at Thor. His face was mournful as he watched his brother being led away. He glanced across at Sif, saw her scowl, frowned and once again pushed a plate of pine nuts towards her, as he had done these last four nights.

“Why do you keep giving me this foul fruit?”

“Bitter, are they not,” Thor asked, but it was clearly not a question requiring an answer. He bit into one, his mouth pinching at the bitter taste, before he spat it out. “Quite appropriate do you not think? One must learn not to pine, for jealousy is also quite bitter.”

“In the name of Yggdrasil, Thor! Do not speak such riddles, it does not suit you!” Sif frowned at her friend, “Whatever do you mean?”

The only reply Thor gave her was a small, sad smile, his gaze drifting across to where Loki stood beside Magnisca across the hall. Until he allowed Anansara to occupy his attentions once more.

Once again, like nearly every night this Yule, Sif was left to her own company, bitter thoughts starting to twist again in her mind. She did not wish to think upon Thor’s riddle, did not want to unravel its mystery, for she feared she already knew what she would find there. She lasted about five minutes before she had to move, had to leave this place where laughter and music echoed around her, taunting her with its merriment. She stood up quickly, her fingers already itching for her glaive, her dagger, anything to vent this frustration. She did not bother making her excuses, there was no one to listen, just turned on her heel and stalked towards the gardens.

This was the worst Yuletide ever!

* * *

Whilst most of the palace had been carved into the cliff face, the gardens clung to its edges and meandered down towards the great lake at its end. The gardens began at the glass entrance, the intoxicating fragrances of its flowers drifting up to capture the attention of any who came to visit. Loki had wished to explore its wonders since they had first arrived, but the knowledge and magic he had found in the library had distracted him. Now though, with the moonlight casting a pale glow on its hidden mysteries and the heady scents of the blooms drifting up on the night air, Loki decided to explore. The night air was cool and crisp and he breathed it in deeply, a welcome relief after the stale, drunken fumes from the feast. From here, a few steps down into the gardens, one could clearly see the enormous glass entrance, the panes fracturing the moonlight as the waterfall cascaded down upon them. How the roar of that mighty river could not be heard here, or in the entrance to the palace, Loki still wished to know. Either a powerful Elfin charm dulled the noise, or the geology of the cliff rendered it so. It was mesmerising to watch, to follow the crash of water as it continued down, crashing into the great lake before continuing its journey out across the great Elfin plains. They were almost black now, barely discernable against the starlit sky, although the river could clearly be seen as it meandered on, reflecting the moonlight and drawing it away.

Something else in the gardens suddenly reflected that same pale light and Loki continued on, curious now. A few more steps and he was nearing the first courtyard, the tinkling sound of the central fountain drawing his attention, until he noticed a figure near the rose bushes. The flare of a dagger in the moonlight momentarily lit up the face, but Loki would have recognised her form anywhere. She was practicing her moves, the dagger flashing ferociously, sometimes sent spinning into the air before it was deftly caught. Her hypnotic movements were sloppy though, tempered by the dress she wore, her recent injury and, above all, the mead she had drunk.

For many a moment he watched her, trying to decide if he should make his presence known. The decision was soon reached for him, for her movements brought her round to face him. The dagger flashed once more in the air, but it fell with a rattle to the stone floor. Sif was frozen in place, her eyes wide and fierce as she recognised her watcher.

“Loki,” she breathed, her voice an angry lash, but Loki took it gratefully, letting the beautiful sound of her voice in the quiet night air wash over him.

“I am sorry to intrude, my Lady.” He bowed politely, but judging by her scowl she deemed it a mockery. “I was wishing to take a walk within the gardens and did not know you were here.” Loki paused then, unsure of whether to stay. He wanted to stay, wanted to continue watching the moonlight dancing across her sharp features. He wanted to reach out and trace the ever changing patterns that fell across her face as the light scattered from the waterfall painted it like stars. But the argument in the healing rooms still clung around them, leaving so many questions still in his mind, questions he did not dare ask.

“I shall take my leave…” He began, but as he turned to go, Sif’s beautiful voice washed over him once more.

“No!” The desperate plea within her voice echoed around the courtyard, and Loki quickly turned back to face her. He saw her swallow before she continued. “It would be nice to have some company, for a while.” Sif smiled at him then, a genuine, open, but timid smile that lit up her radiant eyes and set Loki’s heart jumping in his chest. She walked towards the small balcony overlooking the waterfall, its railings teeming with midnight Jasmine and its scent intoxicating. Or maybe that was Sif’s sweet perfume as he took a place beside her. He tried hard not to look at her, to not admire how pretty she looked with her hair made up. He had pretended not to notice before, when she had entered the hall and he had felt her presence immediately. Hoped she did not see how he’d had to steel himself before he dared turn around to face her and see how beautiful she was.

The silence stretched out between them, the earlier tension still there. He remembered her words clearly, but they had not settled well with him. Sif did not often lie, but he feared she had been avoiding the truth before, and he longed to discover it. He wanted to know why she had been so angry with him all week, why she had scowled and bristled whenever he was present. Wanted to see if he possessed the courage to confirm whether his suspicions were correct, that her foul mood was due to the elfin lady Thor had become so enamoured with. And his own interruptions between her and Thor. But another darker and far more confusing suspicion remained; one he did not dare give voice to, but it had plagued him since their fight in the healing rooms. That perhaps it was another Elfin lady who had earned Sif’s jealousies.

“How do you think they fare, back in Asgard.” Sif asked, finally breaking the silence. “Do you think they miss us, our friends?” She turned to face him, a small smile on her lips. An armistice from their earlier argument.

“Most certainly.” Loki answered in relief, “And I hate to think how embellished their tales have become without you to rein them in.”

“Indeed!” Sif laughed, always the most beautiful sound Loki could hear. “Although I am sure our own will soon become just as wild!”

“But of course, it is not every day one slays three vicious serpents.”

“Three! Only three? I am sure that was just the number I managed to slay.”

“Yes, I defeated another two,” Loki smiled, his heart warming at this sudden moment of laughter between them. They were so rare and precious now for him. He did not want to ruin such a moment, but the talk of the hunt flooded him with guilt once more. He paused a moment, unsure if he dare give air to his next words, uncertain of how she may react. He swallowed, looked away a moment. “But Sif, I… I do hope you will accept my thanks, for defending me today. That injury should have been mine to sustain.”

Sif stepped away from him then, the laughter suddenly falling from her eyes as her hand reached for the bandage covering her waist beneath the dress. The silence now was heavy between them, thick with the memories of that day.

“It is of no matter, Loki.” Sif turned back towards the railing, eyes cast out across the great plains they had sped through earlier. "I shall wear the scar with pride.”

It was of great matter; Loki could still remember how her face had contorted into searing agony, her horrifying screams echoing around the serpent’s cave. He knew better than to mention it again though and simply nodded his thanks.

“And how… how does Magnisca fare? She seemed alright at the feast, but…”

“She fares well now, her injuries healed.” Loki was quick to answer, recognising the guilt on the sheildmaiden’s face.

“Where is she then? It is not like you to have lost your shadow.”

“My shadow?”

“Yes, Magnisca. She has barely left your side since we arrived.” Sif was watching him closely now, her eyes inquisitive and Loki was unable to hide the guilt he felt at the name. His suspicions that the elf did indeed seek more than friendship had been confirmed a scarce hour ago, when he had seen with much guilt her crestfallen face when he had declined her offer of a kiss. He should have been more careful, more guarded, for he could not forgive his own actions. Not only had he led her on, but into danger and it pained him to think he had upset and injured her.

It was impossible to hold Sif’s gaze, or to find the words to say. He glanced away briefly, but when it returned, Sif’s eyes were suddenly cold, narrowed and her body tense. “I do hope you are both not too heart broken when you have to leave soon.”

The sudden change in mood confused Loki, and he answered her carefully, “Mother has allowed me to stay a few more months…”

“What?” Sif’s head snapped around to face him; his words only seemed to have stoked her ire.

“…You see there is still much for me to learn here, and even father has given his approval.” Loki continued hastily, not missing the way her eyes flashed as sharp as knives.

“You just want to spend more time with Magnisca!” She accused, stepping away from him then.

“Sif…I…I already told you we are not together.” He did not know what else to say, even his silver tongue failing him at her sudden anger. It seemed to burn in her even brighter than before and once again Loki longed to find out why. “Magnisca will not even be here, she is leaving within the week.” Loki would miss her, that was true, and he could not help but frown, already mourning her loss. Although Loki knew it to be for the best; distance would be the best cure for her disappointment.

“And I am sure you will feel her loss most keenly.”

The echo of their earlier argument sounded in his mind. Her reasons then did not explain _this_. Sif had always been quick to anger, but it was always for a reason. Now, that reason failed him and the need to know consumed his better judgement, even though he would be sure to curse the knowledge. “Why are you so mad at me, Sif?”

“Mad? I… I am not mad.” Her voice, her words were frantic now, almost fearful. “Why would I be mad? I have no reason to be mad… at you… I am just disappointed that you… that you have abandoned us all week to spend time with your girlfriend!”

There it was again, that dark suspicion rising up within him, frustrating him. It was ridiculous, but even as he refused to give it voice, still it plagued him. “Will you stop calling her that! And besides, why would you care? You got to spend all that time alone with my brother!”

“Do not turn this on me, Loki! You chose to ignore us, ignore me! Barely finding even a minute to ask how we were doing!”

“If you wanted me to come, you only needed to ask, Sif!”

“What?” This time the word was almost shouted across the courtyard. “We did ask!”

“No, Thor asked, you said nothing, clearly wanting to have Thor to yourself! So I thought it best I leave you two be and stay in the library!”

Sif started to speak, but the words froze on her lips. She looked at him for many a moment, emotions flashing across her face so quick he could not read them all. “Why..? Why would I want Thor all to myself?”

There was only confusion in her voice, not anger, or feigned surprise and it lessened Loki’s own resentment, but only somewhat. “So you can try to make him yours, like you have wanted to do since we were children.”

“You…” She shook her head, her eyes flickering between Loki’s and the great void of blackness below. Again she tried to speak, but could find no words. Finally, after drawing in a long, deep breath, she fixed her gaze on Loki. “You think I want Thor?” She was looking at him with such confusion, such surprise and what seemed to Loki akin to a sense of betrayal.

He looked away, following the distance river with his gaze so he did not have to see the hurt that had come into his friend’s eyes. “Everyone wants Thor, Sif. Why would you be any different?”

“Because I am not like everyone, Loki. I would have thought you would know me well enough for that.”

“I know how you like to follow Thor around, like a love sick puppy!”

“I do no such thing, Loki. Thor is, and always will be, nothing more than a friend to me.”

The sincerity, the firm resolution in her voice drew Loki’s gaze again. She stood now with her hand on her hip, more annoyed than angry. And, despite nurturing this belief in his broken heart for centuries, he could not fail to believe she spoke the truth. 

Still, old habits and beliefs are hard to break, so he could not help but protest, although his voice lacked any real conviction. “But Sif, you have been so miserable and grumpy ever since Thor latched onto Magnisca’s cousin. I saw the way you looked so jealousy at her.”

Clearly affronted, Sif shouted back, “I have been angry that my two, supposedly best friends have deserted me nearly all week! Leaving me on my own in this horrible realm whilst they ran off with the first pretty face that came along! I would believe such behaviour of Fandral, even Thor to a point, but you, Loki…” Her hands clenched into fists then, one gripping the dagger so tightly the fingers went white. She glared at him again, before turning her angry gaze out across the blackened meadows below.

There was more to it than that; Sif’s strange behaviour all week was due to far more than finding only herself for company. Sif’s conduct had reeked of jealousy, but if Sif had not been jealous of Thor’s conquest, then what was she jealous of? She could be lying, still hiding her love for his brother, but Loki has seen the confusion on her face, the surprise in her voice. Sif had never been one for falsities. But that meant… And that dark suspicion finally came forward, finally took shape in Loki’s thoughts. If Sif was not jealous because of Thor, than perhaps she was jealous because of him. Immediately, his mind wanted to scoff at the mere notion, it was ridiculous. Sif had never seen him as anything more than a friend; the brother of her friend. He had watched her enough over the years to know that. But his heart would not listen; it was jumping around in his chest, so loud he wondered if she heard it echoing around the stone courtyard. Every cell within his body tensed, his breath caught in his throat, waiting. Just waiting for something, some sign of what truth awaited him.

“Sif…” It was barely more than a whisper, and she did not turn towards him, her gaze staring ever still relentlessly across the wide expanse of blackness and pale moonlight below. Her fingers now clenched tightly to the railing, crushing the delicate yellow flowers and releasing their intoxicating scent between them. A bird chirped in the distance, a raven cawed, the ever unceasing tinkle and splash of the fountain continued on around them. Yet still Sif did not move. Any action now would have to be Loki’s and his alone. He would have to speak out, act out if he wanted to know. But then she would know, and she would not forget. Then how could he possibly face her again, seeing only pity, or maybe even resentment in her eyes? But he longed to know, had to know, to satisfy either his heart or his head with the truth. Despite centuries of pretending, of promises that she could never know, he had to say, to do something.

“Sif…” Loki whispered again, this time reaching for the hand that clung so tightly to the railing, as if afraid of what would happen lest she let go. And she did let go, suddenly pulling her hand away as soon as Loki’s finger’s brushed against hers. She looked up at him for a moment, her gaze reminiscent of a wounded animal, panicked and afraid, but ready to fight or flight until its last breath. A sudden shift in the moonlight, a cloud passing overhead, lit up the brightness in her eyes, the sharp, beautiful plains of her face and it took Loki’s breath away. He moved then, acting without thought or reason. Reaching once more for her hand; a firm grip that pulled her towards him. His fingers reached for her cheek, drawing her face to his as he crushed his lips against hers. He held her tightly, winding one arm around her waist and burying the second deep into her hair. He clung to her, kissed her with as much force and passion as he could, afraid at any moment she would push him away. And she did; several heartbeats later, her eyes wild and her body tense. She gazed at him for many moments, each one passing like a knife pushed through his heart. A knife laced with honey, for the sweetness of her taste still clung to his lips and his arms still wrapped tight around her waist, not quite able to let her go.

This time, it was Sif who moved, grabbing his face in both hands, the dagger clattering to the floor, before she kissed him, returning his own force and passion in the kiss.

Then, even time itself seemed to stop as they kissed each other hungrily, centuries of repressed feelings and tensions bursting forth between them. And it was divine, the most perfect, right thing either of them had ever done.

They were both breathless when they finally pulled apart, resting their foreheads together as they relearnt how to breathe.

“You Loki…Always you.” Her words were muffled, breathless, but determined, and he had never heard anything as sweet and clear and magical before.

“You too, Sif.” He whispered, his heart so full he feared it would burst. And it almost did, as Sif kissed him again. A slower kiss this time, one full of joy and happiness and…and love. It surrounded them both, filling them with promises and hopes and dreams for the future.

“You know Sif,” Loki whispered in her ear sometime later. “I am sure mother would not mind if you also chose to stay in Alfheim.”

Confusion marred her features for a moment, “But why I want to stay in this horrible place!”

“Well,” Loki began, a mischievous smile already dancing in his eyes. “You could help me with studying in the library and…” He paused a moment, delighting in the sour expression that twisted her lips. “You could show me all those places you have discovered here, and I am sure we can find plenty more besides.”

The sour expression broke into one of joy and she reached forwards to kiss him again. There seemed to her now, no better place in all the nine realms than this palace in Alfheim.

And perhaps this Yuletide was not so bad after all. She wondered if she dared even say it was, in fact, now the best Yuletide Sif had ever had. 


End file.
